Perfect Opportunity
by Allaine
Summary: Poison Ivy receives a tempting offer, but she's not completely convinced.  Takes place between Chapter 5 and 6 in "Life Don't Have to be No Bed of Roses".
1. Chapter One

Title: Perfect Opportunity (1/?)  
Author: Allaine  
Email: eac2nd@yahoo.com  
Distribution: Probably at fanfiction.net and the factsofslash group. Anyone interested should just ask, and can expect a positive answer.  
Spoilers: Takes place after the New Batman/Superman Adventures, with one alteration - in my story, Ivy's skin never turned white like the Joker's. So she still looks like you and me.  
Feedback: Just keep it up. Feedback sent to my email address will almost certainly be returned.  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimers: All characters belong to . . . let's see, DC Comics, Kids WB and the Cartoon Network, the producers of the two Batman serials, the talented artists and voice actors, etc. I have borrowed them entirely without permission, for which I humbly beg forgiveness, but I seek no form of profit from this undertaking.  
Summary: Poison Ivy receives a tempting offer, but she's not completely convinced. Takes place between Chapter 5 and 6 in "Life Don't Have to be No Bed of Roses".  
_______________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 1  
  
"May I sit here?"  
  
Ivy glanced up suspiciously. There were plenty of other tables in the cafeteria. Of course, her table was _always_ empty. The hospital personnel were by now quite familiar with Ivy's daily presence, but that certainly didn't mean they were willing to sit across from someone with a reputation for being a psychotic mad scientist with no regard for human life.  
  
This woman, by contrast, was obviously a visitor by her attire. Her black hair shined under the poor hospital lighting, allowed to hide part of her face so that she almost resembled a playing card. "No, go right ahead," Poison Ivy finally said flatly, resolving not to give her another thought as she worked on her falsified papers for future employment.  
  
She set her tray down and sat opposite her, so Ivy could see that the sum total of her meal was a golden apple and a bottle of water. "Diet?" Ivy asked.  
  
"No," the stranger replied. "It's just that the chemicals of man have so pervaded everything we eat and breathe. It's now a question of choosing that which is least corrupted. A pity this apple isn't organic."  
  
Ironically, Ivy herself wasn't a big advocate of the organic movement, since she had long employed chemicals, irradiation, and other gene-altering devices in her botanical experiments. The uproar over "mutant tomatoes" years before had struck her as wildly amusing.  
  
Still . . . the woman's words sounded suspiciously like someone who, having only a superficial knowledge of Poison Ivy, hoped to open a dialogue with her. Reporter? Police officer? Stalker? "Sure," she only said, shutting the door on further conversation.  
  
The woman sighed. "Do you really think you need to go to all that trouble, Pamela Isley?" she asked, gesturing at the forged papers.  
  
"You obviously wanted to speak to me," Ivy replied, "but you don't even know enough about me. Nobody calls me by my given name any longer." She shoved her papers into a pile and prepared to leave.  
  
"I am sorry," the woman said quietly. "Ivy, then. Why do you feel the need to disguise who you are for some interview?"  
  
Ivy looked at her wintrily. "You shouldn't know I have an interview unless you got a _really_ good look at my papers. And if you did, then you had no right."  
  
"You have an interview with Nightstone Unlimited in New York City, about four days from now. They think your name is Patricia Exley, and that you are merely a botanist with good credentials. This," she said, "is not an efficient use of your resources. But then, what is civilization if not the waste and misuse of natural resources?"  
  
Ivy stared at her. "If your information wasn't accurate," she finally said, "I'd think you'd had one acid trip too many. Who are you?"  
  
"I'm here with a job offer," the woman explained. "A job with someone who doesn't care if you're Poison Ivy. Someone who, in fact, thinks you would be just perfect for his organization."  
  
"Work for a man? Unlikely. Who is he?"  
  
"His name is Ra's al-Ghul, and he is my father."  
  
Ivy had been hovering over her chair for the last couple minutes, but now her shapely rear fell into it with a whump. "I see," she said slowly, processing. "We've never met, but I've heard of him. You must be Talia."  
  
"You've heard of me too, then," Talia responded.  
  
"They say things about you and the Batman," Ivy told her.  
  
"He is a great man," Talia said simply, as if it were obvious, "and my beloved."  
  
"And yet you serve at the right hand of Ra's al-Ghul, whose criminal enterprises have all the subtlety of, say, Ernst Blofeld."  
  
"He is _also_ a great man," Talia replied, seemingly not put out by Ivy's comments, "and moves with more subtlety than you could appreciate. And he is my father."  
  
Ivy had the impression that much was being repeated, rather than said. "So what does your father want with me?" she asked, knowing perfectly well.  
  
"Ra's al-Ghul has spent centuries building up his empire," Talia said calmly, "so that he might one day return this planet to its former glory. Before humanity truly descended upon it like a swarm of locusts whose hunger can never be sated. He is the world's first preservationist, Ms. Ivy, but only he sees the issue with a crystal clarity devoid of social blinders. The best way to preserve Earth is to remove those who wish to despoil it. That would be the human race, Ms. Ivy, and so he seeks to remove that."  
  
"Not too big a task," Ivy said dryly. "And drop the Ms."  
  
"He has had time, _Ivy_," Talia replied. "His eyes stretch fifty years into the future." She paused. "At any rate, I hardly think you need to be convinced. Aren't I preaching to the choir?"  
  
Ivy's hand tensed slightly as it rested on the table. This was the greatest truth Talia had spoken. Sure, she was interested solely in plants, while Ra's had broadened his horizons to include the animal kingdom as well. But on the whole, their goals _were_ largely similar. Plants were solely on this earth to benefit humanity - this was accepted by society. Ivy didn't accept it, however, and neither did Ra's. More importantly, both did something about it.  
  
In short, Ivy was somewhat surprised that it had taken Ra's al-Ghul this long to send an emissary. "Perhaps I'm sympathetic," she said cagily. "But why now? He's had his eyes on Gotham for years now, probably as long as I've been active."  
  
"Longer," Talia assured her. "To be honest, Ivy, my father was never convinced that you were the most stable person. Your were considered to be wildly unpredictable, and my father cannot count on that which is not predictable."  
  
"Honey, predictable is vastly overrated," Ivy retorted. "Again, why now? Why was I damaged goods one year ago, but not today?"  
  
Talia waited a moment. "My father has become aware of your relationship with Harley Quinn, Ivy. He thinks your being in love, as reports indicate, is a sign of maturity and consistency."  
  
Ivy did not reply. She was dealing with a man who had way too much information, and thought he understood all of it. "If there is even the slightest veiled threat in that remark . . ."  
  
"No, absolutely not," Talia quickly interrupted. "Miss Quinn is in no danger from me."  
  
"Good," Ivy said. "So what's in it for me?"  
  
Talia smiled. "You would be well compensated, of course. But my father has resources you couldn't imagine. The things you could achieve . . . He sees in you a dedication to a cause that few share beside himself. Wouldn't you like to see the day when this city is overrun not with crime, but with flowers? When satellite photos show continents where the only signs of life are the animals that make their nest in the abandoned skyscrapers of Gotham, Paris, Tokyo, and Mexico City?"  
  
Ivy blinked. She realized she could taste the saliva in her mouth. Damn it, it was just a vision of a megalomaniac!  
  
But oh, was it tempting.  
  
"And what about this man, the Joker?" Talia added.  
  
Ivy's face hardened. "What about him?" she shot back.  
  
"You know he'll escape again some day," Talia pointed out. "And he'll come for you. Will you be able to keep your love safe from him, even in New York? Are you sure he won't get his revenge sooner or later? The two of you could be taken to some place completely safe, where he'd never find you. My father has a wonderful installation hidden deep within the rain forests of central South America. You could study the flora there, conduct your experiments, save the planet - all the while secure from his mania, knowing that he would one day die with all the rest."  
  
Her voice had dropped considerably, probably because there _were_ other people around, but in Ivy's ears, her words rang like bells. Her fingertips were white as she pressed them into the tabletop.  
  
Talia pulled back and stood up suddenly, taking her apple. Ivy saw she hadn't touched it. "I'm sorry, this is a lot for right now. My father told me to give you twenty-four hours to consider his request. I will meet you here tomorrow. Know that he doesn't offer this lightly - refuse, and there will be no second offer." She looked around and turned to go, but first she looked down at Ivy. "I hope you will accept," she said softly, and smiling at her, she vanished.  
  
Ivy sat there. The idea of subordinating herself to another, especially a man - absurd. But . . .  
  
Could she dare say no?  
  
"Harley," she whispered. "This affects both of us. I have to speak to Harley."  
  
Not waiting another moment, she shoved everything into her bag and hurried out of the cafeteria.  
  
The apple lay there until Talia returned a minute later, talking into her cell phone. "Yes, Father," she said, picking the fruit up. "I believe she will bite."  
___________________________________________  
  
"Oooooh, I'm in pain!" Harley moaned theatrically as she was wheeled back into her room. "I'm in pain, and I'm wet, and I'm still hysterical!" She spotted Ivy sitting in her customary place. "I need 20 cc's of TLC, STAT!" she added.  
  
"You'd think career criminals would be able to take a little physical therapy better," the registered nurse muttered exasperatedly.  
  
"Criminals only think of themselves, Nancy," Harley's PT said from the door. "They don't think they deserve to be in pain. Plus Harley thinks she's still an eighteen-year-old gymnast, and stretching is the easiest thing in the world."  
  
"Ha-ha," Harley pouted, folding her arms as she sat on the bed. For whatever reason, physical therapy worked better than years of psychotherapy. "I said STAT, darn it."  
  
Ivy smiled in spite of the recent conversation with Talia. "Wouldn't you rather wait until we're alone?"  
  
"Well . . . okay, yeah, let me catch my breath," Harley yielded. Admittedly, she was still coated in a light sheen of sweat, and her torso was extremely sore.  
  
"Just a couple more sessions, Harley," the therapist said as he left. "Then you don't have to take orders from anyone else - except maybe prison guards."  
  
Harley stuck out her tongue.  
  
"Mm," Ivy murmured. "Hold that pose."  
  
When Harley turned to look at her, uncomprehending, Ivy leaned in and captured Harley's tongue with her lips, kissing her deeply.  
  
"Was that enough T and L for you?" Ivy finally asked when they parted.  
  
Harley's eyes looked slightly crossed. "More like XT and XL," she said, swallowing.  
  
Ivy glanced outside to make sure no one was near. "I had a visitor today."  
  
"Really? Because, you know, they don't get many of those at hospitals."  
  
"So funny I forgot to laugh, Harl. It was Ra's al-Ghul's daughter. Her father wants me to work for him."  
  
Harley looked blankly at her. "Who?"  
  
"Haven't you heard of Ra's al-Ghul?" Ivy asked, surprised. "Allegedly he's this immortal mastermind trying to wipe out the human race to save the environment. You can't be serious. You must have heard of him."  
  
She shrugged. "All I know is Mister - I mean, the Joker once said he had absolutely no concept of style."  
  
"Well, your ex thinks anything less over-the-top than Dennis Rodman is lacking in style," Ivy retorted, feeling her stomach clench at the mere mention of Harley's would-be murderer. Talia had been right, she wasn't sure she could keep them safe forever.  
  
"So I guess he wants you to make some kind of super plant that eats people, or something?" Harley asked idly.  
  
"He just wants to hire me. Talia - "  
  
"Ooh, her I've heard of. They say the Bat's sweet on her."  
  
"Right. As I was saying - "  
  
"And her father is a criminal mastermind, and she works for him? Boy, talk about 'Meet the Parents'."  
  
Ivy rolled her eyes. "May I finish now?"  
  
"Oops. Sorry."  
  
"Talia says we'd be well compensated, and we'd stay somewhere far away from here where the Joker could never find us, and together we might be able to save the plant world before it's too late," Ivy finally explained.  
  
Harley looked at her for a second. "It sounds too good for you to pass up."  
  
Which was, of course, a red flag in its own right. "Us to pass up, Harley. Us," she reminded her. "That kind of decision, we would make together."  
  
"Oh," Harley said, still somewhat unused to having so much control over her life. "I don't know, Red. I really don't know enough about these al-Gool people to know if it's a good idea or not . . . whatever you think is right, Ivy, I'll do. I trust your judgment."  
  
Ivy took her hand. "Thank you, dear. But damn it! I wish I paid more attention to the rumor mill. Who do I ask about this?"  
  
Harley gave Ivy a look that was usually reserved for comments she herself made. "Well, duh, who else would you ask? Pengy."  
  
"Yes, there is that, but he likes to receive as well as give. What information do I have for him? I've been out of the loop for so long."  
  
"Judging from the visits you've been getting from the other Rogues," Harley said thoughtfully, "I'd say you and I have _become_ the loop. All you have to do is sit some place in the Iceberg where people can look at you. Penguin will have to tell you whatever you want to know."  
  
Ivy had been afraid of that.  
  
To be continued . . . 


	2. Chapter Two

Title: Perfect Opportunity (2/2)  
Author: Allaine  
Email: eac2nd@yahoo.com  
Distribution: Probably at fanfiction.net and the factsofslash group. Anyone interested should just ask, and can expect a positive answer.  
Spoilers: Takes place after the New Batman/Superman Adventures, with one alteration - in my story, Ivy's skin never turned white like the Joker's. So she still looks like you and me.  
Feedback: Just keep it up. Feedback sent to my email address will almost certainly be returned.  
Rating: PG  
Disclaimers: All characters belong to . . . let's see, DC Comics, Kids WB and the Cartoon Network, the producers of the two Batman serials, the talented artists and voice actors, etc. I have borrowed them entirely without permission, for which I humbly beg forgiveness, but I seek no form of profit from this undertaking.  
Summary: Poison Ivy receives a tempting offer, but she's not completely convinced. Takes place between Chapter 5 and 6 in "Life Don't Have to be No Bed of Roses".  
_______________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Oswald Cobblepot's breath stuck in his throat like a fish bone when he saw who was coming in. "Poison Ivy," he managed to say, wiping imaginary sweat from his brow. "My horoscope _was_ right today, my stars have aligned perfectly."  
  
"Ivy," he said charmingly as he came forward, so that those who hadn't noticed her entrance were now quite aware. "We so rarely see you here. You are certainly a vision of loveliness tonight."  
  
"We?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "You sound like Harvey."  
  
"Consider it a phrase of the industry," Penguin replied. He hesitated. "I have one or two secluded tables for two, if you like," he told her, expecting to be disappointed.  
  
He was not. "I'd like a table with a little more visibility," she said. "Perhaps something in the center?"  
  
Penguin resisted the urge to clap his hands together. "Of course, of course, Ivy! One of the best tables in the house, right near the animals. Don't worry, they're perfectly safe," he added, offering his hand.  
  
"Whereas I am _not_ perfectly safe," she corrected him. Even on this night, she would not be led around like a girl at a cotillion. "And it's just myself tonight, Oswald. Both her doctors and I felt that Harley shouldn't leave the hospital yet."  
  
"Oh," he said, his mood slightly deflated. It perked up again, however. "Having you here is pleasure enough, my dear. Tonight was already shaping up to be a success, but now with you . . ."  
  
"A success? How so?" she asked as they approached the middle of the establishment.  
  
He gestured surreptitiously to a table on the landing above and behind them. "Look who came in just thirty minutes ago."  
  
She glanced over her shoulder. "Interesting," Ivy said. Selina Kyle was also dining alone, apparently.  
  
"I think she's here to negotiate a price for some star sapphires she recently took possession of," Penguin replied casually.  
  
"Always such a fountain of information," Ivy said to him, stressing the last word.  
  
"Indeed," he agreed, not missing her emphasis. He took in her appearance with a newly appraising eye. "Then your patronage tonight is not entirely for pleasure?"  
  
"No," she said. She felt dozens of eyes on her lithe figure. Her tight, form-fitting, jade short-sleeved Oriental-style dress left little to the imagination. "How long before you can spare a few minutes, do you think?"  
  
The Penguin looked at her calculatingly. "What say I join you at your table in an hour or so? That should give me ample time to speak with Ms. Kyle - and to see how my other guests are faring."  
  
She suppressed a sigh. An hour nursing her alcoholic beverages at her table while the socialites and less-savory figures spied on her. By now everyone knew about the titillating scandal of the underworld - how Harley Quinn had left her long-time beau, the Joker, for best pal Poison Ivy. How he had responded by nearly beating her to death. How he was writhing in a cell somewhere in Arkham with a raging skin condition. But mainly, everyone wanted to know about the new couple. There had always been suggestions, but never any real evidence. So why does a woman who was obviously head over heels for a man, leave him years later for another woman? What was their sex life like? Had Ivy always been _that way_? Was it true there was a videotape? Why was Ivy alone, had she already lost interest in Harley? Or was she the dumpee?  
  
Tomorrow morning everyone would gossip about who they saw last night at the Iceberg, the reclusive Poison Ivy, and all next week business would boom as people hoped to see her again. In short, it was the cheapest coin she could offer Penguin in exchange for information about the al-Ghuls, aggravating as it was for the antisocial Ivy.  
  
She still had two-thirds of her Chardonnay left when the first person dared to approach her table. Ivy groaned inwardly, not quite prepared for the gossipy rudeness of polite society.  
  
"Mind if I sit down for a little while?"  
  
Ivy looked up, surprised. Deja vu, if the speaker weren't so different from this morning. "Sure," Ivy told her, "although you may want to reconsider. People might think I was cheating on Harley with you. You know how promiscuous all us gay people are."  
  
"The day I care what empty-headed debutantes, or anyone else for that matter, think about me," Catwoman replied, calmly sitting across from Ivy, "is the day I hang up my claws."  
  
"No claws tonight, I see," Ivy said, admiring Selina's own fashion selection. "Penguin thinks you're here to negotiate over some merchandise."  
  
"I don't negotiate," Selina said. "I name my price, and I walk out with either the money or the goods. Harley's still at the hospital?"  
  
"Yes," Ivy responded. "She's not fully healed yet." She glanced sidelong at Selina. "Thanks for the note, by the way. That was you, wasn't it?"  
  
Selina nodded. "I'm as grateful as anyone that I don't have to watch the Joker use her for a footstool any more."  
  
Ivy wondered what made Catwoman come over. They didn't speak too much. Part of the reason was that she had spent a sum total of zero days in Arkham, which despite the rise of the Iceberg remained the top spot for socializing among most of the Rogues. The other reason was that despite being two of the most prominent female criminals in Gotham, they didn't have much in common. Ivy thought Selina considered herself better than the rest of them, and she knew Catwoman thought she was a shrill extremist.  
  
Still, that could be overlooked. Besides, she realized, Selina's name came up in connection to the Batman even more than Talia's did. Surely Catwoman must have some thoughts on a woman who some might consider a romantic rival.  
  
And Catwoman provided her with the opening. "What brings you here tonight? If you were here with Harley, I could understand, but it's like you're putting yourself on display for a roomful of leering men and snobs. If you don't mind me saying so, it's not like you."  
  
"You're right, it isn't, and I _am_ on display," Ivy told her. "Penguin will have to tell me whatever I want to know now."  
  
"Information," Selina understood. "I thought so. About what? The Joker?"  
  
"No," Ivy said casually, although she felt the familiar twinge at hearing his name. "Ra's al-Ghul."  
  
Selina had absolutely no expression.  
  
"I met his daughter today," Ivy went on. "Tell me, what do you think of her family?"  
  
The briefest tug at her lips was the only sign Ivy had that Catwoman had heard her. Idly Selina fingered her glass. "Do you want to know my impression of Talia al-Ghul?" she asked.  
  
"Please," Ivy answered.  
  
"Do you ever read Oscar Wilde?"  
  
_That_ had been something of a non sequitur. "I don't think so," Ivy admitted. "I didn't have much of a liberal arts education."  
  
"In his play _The Importance of Being Earnest_," Selina explained calmly, "one of the characters, Celia, hears all sorts of tales about her ward's younger brother, Ernest. And so, without ever meeting him, Celia decides that she is madly in love with him, and she composes wild fantasies about their courtship and engagement in her diary."  
  
"How childish," Ivy said.  
  
"Trust me, it's a lot better than it sounds. At any rate, I think Talia is like Celia," Selina said. "From what I've learned, Ra's spent months, _months_, studying the Batman. Apparently he wanted the Batman to be his heir."  
  
Ivy blinked. "The Bat, heir to a criminal empire? What chapter did Ra's forget to study?"  
  
Selina permitted herself a small smile. "I think Talia spent so much time studying Batman's pictures and deeds that she told herself he was her 'beloved'. Or perhaps her father told her she was in love with him." She shrugged. "All I know is, I don't put much stock in those rumors about them when Talia decided they were destined to be together before she even got off the plane to Gotham."  
  
Taking her glass, Ivy downed the rest of her wine. "Thanks," she said.  
  
"No problem. I didn't know she was in town. What did she want?"  
  
"Her father wants me to work for him."  
  
Selina looked surprised, and then slightly concerned. "You're not actually considering it, are you?"  
  
"Your worrying touches me, Selina. Are you my new platonic best friend?"  
  
Catwoman's face slammed shut.  
  
Ivy mentally cursed herself. The wine, combined with the sensation of having a hundred greedy eyes on her, was shortening her temper. "I'm sorry," she said. "I don't think I'll have that second glass after all."  
  
"It's nothing," Catwoman said flatly as she got up. She stopped, however. "Just think about this, Ivy. I know enough about Ra's - I even had dinner with him once, if you can believe it - to know that his daughter probably pointed out that you shared similar goals. That you were maybe kindred spirits. Well, if any of his previous plans had succeeded, your 'kindred spirit' would have killed you along with everyone else on this planet. Ra's doesn't have partners or friends - only servants."  
  
"Ah, if it isn't my two favorite ladies," Penguin said expansively as he appeared at Ivy's table.  
  
Ivy arched an eyebrow.  
  
"Not including Miss Quinn, of course," he added, hastily amending his first remark.  
  
Selina slipped him a piece of paper. "While I have you, Oswald."  
  
He glanced at it. "Now, my dear, this will be a good starting point, but . . ."  
  
"I walk out with the money, or . . ."  
  
"She walks out with the goods," Ivy finished for her.  
  
Both looked at her, surprised.  
  
Ivy turned slightly pink. "Sorry. I think the Chardonnay may have been too good a year."  
  
"Just come to my office, my dear," Penguin said to Catwoman, and guided her away. "I'll be back shortly, Ivy."  
  
"How are your guests tonight?" she asked.  
  
His eyes twinkled. "I believe the main topic of conversation is some kind of movie that is floating around the black market," he said, as if there was _anything_ he didn't buy or sell on the black market.  
  
Ivy only smiled, however. That forty-five percent was looking better and better.  
________________________________________________  
  
"Over here," Ivy called quietly as she saw Talia approach her usual place.  
  
Talia approached her at the corner table. "Feeling a need for privacy?"  
  
"You seem to know that I always sit over there. Just how long was I being watched before you approached me, anyway?"  
  
"About a week, I believe. Not by me, mind you. My father - "  
  
"Has servants," Ivy finished for her, echoing Selina's comment. "Everywhere?"  
  
Talia cocked her head slightly at the coolness of Ivy's words. "Not everywhere, but close enough. Is there a problem?"  
  
"No, not really," Ivy replied casually. "Well, I am rejecting your father's offer. Wait, is that a problem?"  
  
Ivy watched her. "You know, I'd think you could handle surprise better. I can see it written all over your face."  
  
"I am . . . sorry," Talia finally told her, frowning slightly as her features smoothed over. "I will go."  
  
"Hold on," Ivy said, stopping her. "That's it? Nothing more?"  
  
"There is nothing more to say," Talia answered. "You said no. The offer is hereby terminated. I have other uses of my time."  
  
Ivy smiled. "You don't even want to know why?"  
  
"Such petty reasons do not concern my father."  
  
"No wonder you'll never leave your father's side," Ivy said. "You really don't think for yourself, do you?"  
  
_That_ cut her, and for the first time she flashed a little of what Ivy suspected was her father's temper. "You don't know me at all," she retorted. "You think a few minutes with the Penguin gives you a clue as to who the al-Ghuls are?"  
  
"You don't strike me as excessively complicated," Ivy responded.  
  
Talia got up to leave, but Ivy's fingers brushed against her wrist, stopping her again. "I'm not finished yet."  
  
The demon's daughter looked shocked. "Excuse me?"  
  
"For starters, I know why your father waited all this time. He was waiting for something to hold over me. But all I ever cared about was plants, and an environmentalist like your father couldn't exactly threaten _that_ with any credibility. But now I've got Harley." Ivy's eyes burned. "I already have one madman who wants her dead. Do you think I'll let another one use her as a hostage?"  
  
"I told you . . ."  
  
"Yes, you told me she wasn't in any danger from you. Nice evasion. So who _is_ she in danger from?"  
  
Talia said nothing.  
  
Ivy leaned back in her chair. "I will not be a slave to the mercies of a tyrannical dictator, Talia. You can tell him that. If he wants to try more hardball tactics, let him."  
  
"He won't," Talia said. "You're not worth worrying about."  
  
"Ooo, harsh," Ivy sneered.  
  
Talia was still standing, and she turned to leave. But then, startling Ivy, she hesitated, looked around, and then turned back, sitting across from her. Ivy, however, was much better at disguising her surprise, and she managed to look uninterested.  
  
"He may even be glad you said no," Talia began.  
  
"I realize," Ivy said dryly, "that this is usually the moment when you betray your father, but in case you haven't noticed, I'm not Batman."  
  
Talia actually flinched in her seat. "This is not a betrayal," she finally said. "Despite what you said earlier, I _can_ think for myself. I choose to share my thoughts with you."  
  
Ivy tried not to yawn.  
  
"My father," Talia resumed quietly, "was not sure he wanted someone like you under him."  
  
"Because I'm 'unpredictable'?"  
  
"Because you're a lesbian."  
  
That pierced Ivy's front and her mouth fell open. "You can't be serious."  
  
Talia smiled humorlessly. "My father has lived for centuries, Ivy. In many ways, his views are quite antiquated. He views your relationship with Harley Quinn as one more sign of the growing depravity of what he calls the 'menace of humanity'. In the end, however, he also saw your relationship as more of a plus than a minus."  
  
"How intriguing," Ivy replied, gritting her teeth.  
  
Talia suddenly looked guilty. "I have to go. I must see my father soon, and . . ."  
  
"Hoping to snatch a few minutes' time with the Bat?" Ivy asked.  
  
The other woman looked past her. "My beloved - "  
  
"Can't you even say his name, Talia?" Ivy interrupted. "Father. Beloved. Is everything a title to you?"  
  
"As someone who has tried to kill my bel . . . the Batman a dozen times," Talia shot back, "you could not understand our relationship."  
  
"I wasn't aware you had one," Ivy said. "I thought it was your job to lure Batman into traps, then help him out of them."  
  
Talia's hand clenched into a fist. "You know nothing. _Nothing_."  
  
"My old doctors at Arkham would have had a field day with you, Talia," Ivy went on. "Didn't get enough approval from your father, so you sought out a father figure in Batman? Still playing them off each other, trying to decide who will need you more?"  
  
"Shut up," Talia hissed, although it was more of a snarl.  
  
"Then again . . . actually, I think they're both using you. For someone who serves at the right hand of a megalomaniac that wants to destroy civilization, Batman must really cut you a lot of slack. He uses you to get to Ra's, and Ra's uses you to get to him. Justice, a heir - that's what they want. You're just the means to the end."  
  
"I said . . ."  
  
"That's why you can't choose one or the other. Without Ra's, you're nothing to Batman. Without Batman, you're just a daughter to Ra's. Someone he'll marry off to the first retainer who asks. Beloved, Father - why don't you wake the hell up?"  
  
"STOP TALKING, YOU BITCH!"  
  
Talia planted both her palms on the table and leant over, so that her eyes were right in front of Ivy's. What Ivy saw in those eyes was a mountain of denial . . . and underneath, something that told her Talia had known all along.  
  
Ivy felt a brief, contemptuous stab of pity for her. "Go on," she said. "Get whatever minutes the Bat can spare you before you run home to Daddy. Maybe I'm wrong. Maybe it's just that you're a rebellious little girl." She leaned back. "Go on," she repeated. "My answer is still no."  
  
Noticing that the few people in the cafeteria were watching them, Talia quickly stood up and brought her hands behind her back. Without another word, she walked unsteadily out of the room.  
  
Shrugging, Ivy went back to what she was doing. The doctors had suggested that Harley could leave in a couple days. There were options to consider, and the al-Ghuls were already forgotten.  
  
The End.  
  
(Author's Note - While I certainly do not consider this series to be a Cat-Tails spinoff, I will admit that my thoughts on Talia are at least partially inspired by Chris Dee's stories and certain discussions I've had with her. Credit must go to her for that. My depiction of Catwoman/Selina was also influenced by Chris' work. So big thanks to her.) 


End file.
